Exception to the Rule
by Kinkatia
Summary: The rule was that, in times of darkest need, when it came to the things that mattered most, the crew had to ask Luffy for help. There was a line he wouldn't cross until he heard it. But the rule goes both ways. . .


**A.N.:** Oh hey, I haven't written anything in a long time. Just got caught up with One Piece, and this has been floating in my head a while. It's not terribly good, but I thought I'd give it a go anyway. If you haven't worked your way up to the time skip yet, I'd say don't read this unless you don't mind major spoilers.

**Exception to the Rule**

Luffy sat up with a start, heart pounding in his chest.

"Ace. . ." The whisper of his brother's name vanished into the cool darkness of the sleeping quarters.

He stared at his hands. They were trembling. He curled his fingers into tight fists to make the trembling stop.

A deep breath. Inhale. Pause. Exhale.

He looked around him. Everyone was asleep. Sanji was tangled up in his sheet, snoring quietly. Next to him was Usopp, sprawled across the floor with Chopper snuggling his head. Zoro sat by the door, swords at the ready and chin resting on his chest. Franky was absent, probably in his workshop, tinkering with his latest weapon in the wee hours of the night. Brook was gone, too; he had first watch that night.

Luffy sighed and unclenched his fists. His hands still shook a little, but it was receding. Quietly, he got up and stepped around the sleeping forms of his nakama and slipped out onto the deck.

The night was clear, crisp but not too cool. Stars twinkled silently in the dark sky. The wind was gentle, an easy breeze breathing past the sails. The sound of the sea on the ship's hull filled the air. It would have been a beautiful night, if not for the lingering memory of the nightmare.

No one was in sight. Brook's watch ought to have ended, but he could still be up in the crow's nest. In any case, Luffy was glad the deck was deserted. He didn't quite feel like talking to anyone at the moment.

He stepped over to the rail and rested his forearms on it, gazing blankly at the sea. It had been two years. He'd grieved. He'd gotten stronger. He was with his nakama again, and he knew he could keep them all safe. They were sailing into the unknown, into the New World, ready for the next adventure.

He should be happy.

But he couldn't stop thinking about Ace. He couldn't stop remembering, couldn't erase that moment, that last, horrifying, pain-filled moment from his mind. It was there, always present, always haunting him. He managed, most of the time. But sometimes, at night, it would take over. Force him, in his dreams, to relive that moment of his carelessness, that moment which exposed him to danger. . . that moment when Ace gave up his life to protect him.

"Ace. . ."

Tears dropped onto his arm. He blinked, and wiped his eyes. He hadn't even realized he was crying. He should have moved past tears by now. When Sabo had died, it hadn't taken this long to stop crying in the middle of the night, and he had been so young then.

But with Sabo it was different. He'd had Ace to depend on. They had helped each other through that trying time, and strengthened their bond as brothers. And Sabo. . . well, Sabo had taken freedom in hand and paid the unfortunate consequence. Sabo's death had been heart-breaking and more painful than anything he could imagine, but it hadn't been his fault.

If it weren't for him, Ace would still be alive.

Quiet steps on the deck behind him. Coming closer.

"Luffy?"

The concern in Nami's voice reminded him that he was supposed to be strong. He was the captain, the rock of their crew. For his nakama, he had to keep his strength. Hurriedly, he wiped his eyes and plastered on his best smile. One quick, deep breath, and he turned around. "Hey Nami!"

She frowned. His smile faltered.

A tense, uncomfortable moment passed, in which she took in his appearance. He knew she could see he'd been crying, could see the tenseness in his shoulders and the way his hands persisted in shaking, ever so slightly. She could see right through him, see how weak he was.

Her gaze softened, and she turned around, gesturing for him to follow. "Come with me, okay?"

He padded after her, confused. "Why?"

"I just want to talk with you for a minute."

He glanced at his feet, uncomfortable. He didn't want to talk. But. . . "We can't talk here?"

She shook her head. "Just come on."

She led him into her tangerine grove, and stopped at one of the trees to examine its fruit. Luffy stood behind her, shifting from one foot to the other, afraid to look at her in case she turned around and met his gaze.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then, "You're thinking about Ace, aren't you?"

Her voice was soft. He could hear her concern. She did not turn around.

He nodded, but, realizing she couldn't see him, answered quietly, "Yeah." His voice quivered. He hated it.

Nami lowered her hand from the tangerines and turned around to face him. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

After a moment, she went on, "You keep thinking that he'd be alive but for you. That it's your fault, and you should have done something, anything different, even though you know there wasn't anything you could have done."

Burning tears slid down his face. Hands curled into fists at his sides as his shoulders began to shake. Still he said nothing.

"I was so worried about you two years ago. I was trying everything I could to get to you. Everyone else, too. We knew you needed us. It was obvious. And then you sent us that stupid, selfish message, and I was glad you were okay, but I still worried. I still do. Everyone does."

Luffy wiped at his eyes with the back of his fist. He hated knowing that he was making his nakama worry. "You don't have to worry," he muttered. "I'm-"

Nami interrupted him. "When we were in trouble, when we really needed you the most, you always made us ask for help. You needed to hear it from us. You waited for me to ask before you went after Arlong, and you took on Enies Lobby to hear Robin say she wanted to live, that she wanted you to save her. But Luffy. . . just because you're the captain, doesn't mean you're the exception to the rule."

His head shot up, eyes wide. He stared at Nami's back, her words running circles in his head. "It's not the same," he muttered.

Nami sighed, her shoulders dropping. "It is."

"No, it's not!" he said, frustrated and starting to get angry because he couldn't understand. His nakama was trying to tell him something important, and he just couldn't understand. "There's no Arlong, or CP9, or anyone here that needs to be taken down. It's just me!"

Nami nodded. "I know."

Luffy bit his tongue to keep himself from yelling out in frustration. He didn't want to wake the rest of the crew. He didn't want them to see or hear this. He'd done his shouting two years ago, when he nearly lost himself to his grief and Jimbei had pulled him back. That had been his darkest hour, and there was no way in hell he'd put his crew through anything like that.

But what did Nami mean? Of course there was just him. Just him and the black mass of his grief and guilt laden nightmares, brought on by something that the others couldn't possibly understand.

Wait.

His anger and frustration subsided.

Bellemere.

He remembered what he knew about Bellemere. About what happened when Arlong first arrived at Cocoyashi and shattered Nami's life.

Bellemere was for Nami like Ace was for him.

Nami understood.

He couldn't stop crying. He was trembling all over. It hurt. So much.

"Nami. . ."

She waited.

The words didn't want to come. He grappled with them, forced them out. "I want the nightmares to stop. I. . . I want to stop crying. I want the pain to. . . to just go away. It hurts, every time I think about Ace. . ." His voice cracked, and he lowered his head, overcome.

Nami turned around. She stepped toward him and pulled him into her arms. "It'll get better," she said.

"How? I got stronger. Stronger and stronger and stronger, so I could protect everyone, so no one would have to die again. But it didn't get any better."

"Give it time." She squeezed him gently, then loosened her hold on him to make him look her in the eye. She was crying too. "But first, you have to forgive yourself."

"But Ace died because of me."

"Ace would have been executed if not for you."

"But-"

"Shh. Listen. You were the one who stopped the execution and set him free. Because of that, he was able to make a choice, and he chose to protect something he felt was more valuable than his own life: you."

Luffy let out another anguished sob, and Nami pulled him close again. This time, he returned the embrace, clinging to her desperately, as if his grief would drown him if he let her go.

She rubbed his back soothingly. "Luffy, we all know that you'd gladly die protecting us. We're all getting stronger so that never happens, but if it ever does. . ." Her voice shook, but she went on. "We wouldn't blame ourselves. We'd know that was your choice, that you had died on your own terms, and that it wasn't our fault. It was that way with Ace, Luffy. It was that way with Bellemere. And Ace. . . he was only able to do that _because of you._ You let him die freely instead of in chains. He wanted you to live, to get stronger, be happy, and achieve your dreams. He gave himself for your sake, and in doing so passed all his hopes and dreams onto you. And now it's up to you to carry him with you into the future. To make him proud."

She was right. Luffy knew she was right. But he couldn't stop crying. It still hurt too much. "It's okay to hurt, and it's okay to cry, just remember that it's not your fault. Remember what you did for him."

Nami held onto him for a long time, until the first traces of dawn glimmered in the eastern sky and he'd worn himself out and run out of tears. Then they sat together, at the edge of the grove, watching the stars disappear from view, one by one.

"Nami," Luffy said quietly.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

She smiled and tossed him a tangerine. "Anytime, Luffy. We're all here for you. Talk to us, let us know how you're feeling. We can help. Just remember: you're not the exception to the rule."

He turned the tangerine over in his hands and smiled. The strongest holds of his grief were subsiding with the rising of the day. They were still there, waiting, but they didn't worry him quite so much anymore. If Nami said it would get better, then it would get better. He wasn't alone anymore.


End file.
